


the moon, the little silver cloud, and she

by Moonlark



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 20:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7521178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlark/pseuds/Moonlark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one-shots. Mostly gonna be the rarer pairs (or trios, or quartets, or beyond).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kelley O'Hara/Emily Sonnett, a stolen kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "The Death of the Hired Man" by Robert Frost. The poem itself is quite sad and not topically related to this at all, but Frost's writing is beautiful and that line's always stuck with me, and it seemed appropriate for this.
> 
> Hope all yinz enjoy this!

It's been going on all day.

Little touches during practice. The brush of fingertips against sweaty skin where a training top's been rucked up. A subtle hipcheck in a water break that bumps legs together for no good reason. Lips planting an unseen kiss, infinitesimal (but certainly felt), on the bare column of a neck, or the back of a hand, or even (between drills, when they're flopped in the sparse and thirsty grass) on the tender inside of a wrist or ankle.

Emily wishes she could blame it all on Kelley, but the truth is it's just as much her own fault. Whatever it is.

Smoldering glances traded before the showers. A sneaky caress unnoticed by others in the ice bath. Phrases whispered in passing, ghosting over each other's ears, designed to elicit a swallow and a shiver. Heavy, heady gazes that settle over each other from across a too-wide dining table, and feet that knock together to bridge the distance.

It's been building all day, and Emily feels she's about ready to burst. It's been a whole lot to deal with, but it also hasn't been. Everything's been small, subtle, secretive. No one else has noticed, as far as Emily knows. No one's commented, at least, and no one's sending them any looks. And there isn't really anyone on the team who would be able to resist a little chirp or two. So the subtlety is not the problem.

The problem is that Kelley's not usually subtle. Which makes it so much more surprising (infuriating, tantalizing, maddening) when she is.

Across the table, Kelley's fiddling with her phone. She shoots a wicked grin at Emily, just as Emily's phone buzzes in her pocket.

Somehow, Emily instinctively knows that what it is Kelley just sent her, it's not appropriate for the dinner table. She opens it anyway.

 _Jesus fucking Christ_. That's not subtle at all. When had Kelley had the time to take that photo? Why had she saved it until now? It must have been that morning--that's her own bed Kelley's lounging on, shirtless (no, completely topless), with one hand holding the phone at the best angle to properly light her fantastic abs and the other down the front of her low sweats, down between her legs. _Fucking hell._ Her face is partly visible, and she's biting her bottom lip, hard.

Oh fuck, that's hot in so many ways.

Emily swallows and types out a reply-- _you just made my mouth go dry and somewhere else get pretty wet-_ -and then waits for Kelley to read it. It's completely worth it, for the suckerpunched look on Kelley's face. It's obvious, exactly what Kelley's thinking, where her mind goes. She's biting her lip again.

Emily's phone buzzes again, and she looks down to see another text from Kelley, with actual words this time.

_i could help you with that_

Kelley meets her eyes with a wink and a subtle nod toward the lobby and the elevators. Emily nods back, then stands and clears her plate. Dinner's almost over anyway, no one will care if they leave now. They're not even the first.

The walk across the lobby seems like an eternity. The elevators simply refuse to open. The rest of the team is starting to filter out of the dining room, and the last thing that they want right now is company.

One of the elevators dings.

Emily glances over her shoulder. There's no one right behind them; Moe, Kling, and Whit are far enough away that not holding the door for them won't look suspicious. Kling's not even looking, busy staring down at her phone and almost walking into Moe every few seconds--either catching Pokemon or texting Bri or Mandy, as she always is. Behind them, JJ's throwing Tobin some serious side-eye about god knows what, and Lindsey's trying not to crack up. None of them are in any hurry to clear the lobby. No one's watching.

It's the perfect opportunity.

The elevator doors slide open, and Kelley steps in and presses 8. Emily slips in behind her, jabbing at the "doors close" button as soon as she's through. She turns and leans casually on the side of the elevator, smirking at Kelley. And finally-- _finally_ \--Kelley steps forward and draws her into a real kiss.

It's a slow elevator. Eight floors is a long ride. And after that... well, the night is still young. They've got plenty of time.


	2. Michelle Betos/Haley Kopmeyer, when it snows

"The weather forecast said it would be clear up here today," Michelle says softly, staring out over the huge gulf of Zigzag Canyon.

"The weather forecast is a lying bitch," Haley responds. She's got her head tilted back and her tongue out, looking at the low clouds that have gathered over the flanks of Mount Hood. A wet snowflake lands on her cheek, and she grins. "It's real snow, holy shit."

"I realized that." A pair of flakes alights on Michelle's eyelashes, and she can't contain a giddy laugh. "We're pretty high up, Hales."

Below them, the Zigzag River grumbles, discontented, as if to say that it doesn't share their appreciation for the novelty of such a snow. They ignore it.

It doesn't take long to eat the little lunch they'd brought along, sitting cross-legged at the edge of the canyon. If Michelle were here on her own (or with almost anyone else, for that matter), she would definitely have wanted to sit a foot or two further back, away from that huge gulf--but with Haley, somehow that couple of feet is no big deal.

"Cloud cover's getting closer," Haley notes, pointing up the slope. 

"Yeah, maybe we should be heading back," Michelle responds, but neither of them move. The mountain doesn't seem to want to let them go yet. It's too captivating, too beautiful, too much the primeval giant that dominates the horizon on either side of the gorge, all the way back to Portland itself.

They sit there for a few minutes more, watching the clouds creep lower, inching toward them. The mountain is gone, having donned the white hood from whence its name had come, no longer towering above them. The sky feels like it's falling away. The far rim of the canyon is almost hidden.

"Still, holy shit," Haley says again, suddenly, "it's August, and it's _snowing_."

Michelle can't help but laugh at that, and Haley wrinkles her nose and marches determinedly away down the trail. She stops at the next bend, though, and slows to walk with Michelle once more.

The clouds catch them just as they come up the far side of Little Zigzag Canyon, onto the final stretch of trail back to Timberline Lodge. Michelle can feel drops of condensation lighting on her cheeks and eyelashes, and in front of her, Haley's hair is a net of dew. Her girlfriend is humming quietly, tuneless and soft under her breath as they pick their way through the fog, finding the narrow trail through the steep alpine meadows. When the trail widens, she drops back to lace her fingers in between Michelle's.

"Hey, Meesh," she whispers, so light it almost floats away in the fog.

Michelle's smiling so wide she's sure her face is gonna shatter any moment. "Hey, Hales," she whispers back, and leans sideways against Haley's shoulder. It's harder to walk that way, but only a little--and anyway, neither of them want to let go.

They've had too much practice letting go, so that it always seems like a luxury when they get to hold on, when they get to stay.

Timberline Lodge comes up suddenly, a warm burst of light off to their right, on the slope below them. Michelle doesn't expect it, is caught off guard by the sudden step down to the parking lot. She stumbles sideways, into a bank of hardened, dirt- and slush-splattered snow that's been there since the lot was plowed last winter. 

Haley cracks up, and Michelle sputters and tries to push herself back upright. Her arms only sink deeper into the snowbank, not gaining any purchase, so she simply stops and rolls over, putting her hands behind her head and stretching out like ending up in a dirty snowbank was her intention all along.

Jesus, it's cold.

"Hey Hales," she says. "Guess what I'm doing."

Haley's still laughing, but she has to contain her giggles to answer. "Slapstick? Making a fool of yourself? Getting cold and wet?"

"Nope," Michelle says, as casuallly as she can. "Just chilling."

It takes about two seconds for the pun to fully register with Haley, and then her groan can probably be heard from miles away. "That was awful. Absolutely awful. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Michelle shrugs. "Get me up then."

"No more puns," Haley warns, but she offers Michelle a hand and the necessary leverage to haul herself out of the snowbank.

They're back at the car shortly, turning it on and savoring the blasts of warm air from the heater. Michelle pulls off her half-soaked leggings and hoodie, throwing them into the backseat and smirking at the way Haley swallows, her hands tightening on the steering wheel.

"It's not fair," Haley mutters under her breath.

"What do you mean?" Michelle asks, feigning ignorance. She knows exactly what Haley's talking about.

"I'm gonna have to drive all the way back to Portland with you sitting beside me wearing almost nothing. And then tomorrow I'm gonna have to drive back up to Seattle thinking about this the whole time. It's not fair. How am I supposed to concentrate on the road?"

Michelle grins and leans over to leave a kiss on Haley's cheek. "I'm sure I can give you an incentive." She pauses, and then adds, "If you get us home safely, you'll get to do a lot more than just look."

Maybe Haley pulls out of the parking lot a bit faster than necessary. She has to slow down on the narrow road, though, taking the turns with a measure of caution. The pavement isn't exactly dry, and on one particularly sharp switchback, the car slows almost to a crawl.

Outside, the fog's rolled back up, but the bright, downy flakes are still drifting over them to vanish into the dark mountain forest. None of them are sticking on the ground, but the upper branches of the hemlocks and cedars are laced with a fine dusting of white that turns the whole scene perfect, like an old oil painting.

"It's beautiful," Michelle whispers into the car's soft quiet.

Beside her, Haley smiles. "Yeah, it is," she replies, and she's not looking out the window when she says it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have experienced one of Mount Hood's summer snowstorms, so I can personally assure you that they do happen, and that they are awesome enough to turn two lovestruck keepers into children again.

**Author's Note:**

> I may be taking prompts after I'm done with the first four chapters. For prompt formats, please see the titles of each chapter. Give me a pairing and three or so words of a situation, and I might write it.
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr at mirthandmoney. I'll have cakes and ale for anyone who stops by.


End file.
